


Following your scent

by emotional_fool



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Ron Weasley, Bickering, Creature Fic, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Healer Draco Malfoy, M/M, Marking, Mates, Post-War, Romance, Scent Marking, Vampires, Wolf AU, mention of minor character deaths, more like enemies to accidental mates, wolf mates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2019-11-04 08:29:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17895035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emotional_fool/pseuds/emotional_fool
Summary: There have been Vampire attacks every night for past one week and Healer Malfoy had no idea when he left St. Mungo’s tonight that he would be the next victim.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello,,,,hi *awkward laugh*  
> So, this is my first ever fully fledged Drarry fic and saying that I'm nervous would be such an understatement.  
> There is a reason I don't write them even though they are my otp...because....in honest words...I kinda suck at writing something more than let's say 2k words. And thus I apologize in advance for this mess(?)
> 
> Someone prompted me with Twilight au on IG and I kinda ran away with it and it resulted in this which has nothing to do with twilight (sorry ?) except obviously the creatures - A human, a vampire and a wolf.
> 
> I request leniency for my first official drarry fic and hopefully some of you do manage to enjoy it.

 

 

Draco groans in pain, discomfort and cold, unbearable cold as he wakes up to complete darkness all around. He closes his eyes as pain strikes back. A dull ache in the back of his head elicits a whimper out of him and when he brings his fingers to it, they come back wet. He is unable to see its color but on inspecting his fingers closer and inhaling the pungent scent, Draco is sure of what it is - blood - his blood to be exact.

 

He is in the out. He can tell from the cold, the wind rustling around, and the muddy ground below him.

 

As his eyes adjust to the darkness, Draco finally realizes where he is.

 

**_The Forbidden forest._ **

****

How he got here, he has no idea. The last thing he remembers is leaving St. Mungo’s to get to the apparition point. But before he could have apparated back to the manor, something had made contact with his head. All he could recall was the extreme pain he felt after that and someone grabbing him mid-fall before he could be one with the ground.

 

 

Giving a once over to his pitch black surroundings again, Draco tries to identify the part of forest he is in even if it is a tough task to conquer as the whole forest looks vaguely similar from everywhere to him even in broad daylight so what more to expect during this hour.

 

He is pushing himself to get up when the sound of twigs breaking catches his attention. If not for the eerily quiet forest, Draco would have missed it.

 

_It could be just winds. He consoles himself._

But the sound of footsteps next are loud and clear enough for Draco to get his senses back and prepare for the worst. Nobody would be roaming the forbidden forest so late(he doesn't know but calculating from how he left St. Mungo’s at around 10 and the ache in the back of his head is not very strong..it must be past midnight now) just for a leisure stroll.

 

Draco tries to pull his wand out of his holster and realizes in a moment of panic that he has no wand on him.

 

The gravity of the situation finally settles on him and nothing comes up in his mind on how to protect himself against this sudden danger.

 

His wandless spells are not strong enough to protect him from this situation. A situation which looks eerily familiar. There have been cases coming in St. Mungo’s of victims being found bloodied in a different part of the forest every night for past one week.

 

As a healer Draco had known at inspection what or rather who had caused those injuries.

 

Vampire(s).

 

They are still not sure if there is only one or more. But noting from how all the bodies had been left almost drenched dry of blood every night insinuates that the creature is thirsty. Very thirsty. The kind of unquenching thirst that comes when someone is turned a vampire not longer than a fortnight.

And now there is a high chance that that same creature or creatures are coming for Draco, who is wandless and in pain.

 

Another sound of twig breaking and suddenly the already chilling forest turns chillier, if that was even possible. And from a thick band of trees emerges a figure, dark and hooded and Draco is pretty sure he would have missed it if not for the red eyes trained straight at him and the white of fangs visible just beneath the creature’s lips.

 

His worst nightmare is here. Should he even try to outrun the blood sucker in order to save himself or that will just ensue his death faster.

 

He takes a step back quietly and it turns out to be the wrong move because the vampire is now much closer to him than he was a mere second ago.

 

If somehow he miraculously came out alive from this then he can at least confirm that it is a single creature as one of the witnesses. But the chances of him making it alive are somewhat nonexistent at this point.

 

Draco however tries to project a wandless protego in hopes of stalling his dreadful fate for few more seconds. The shield was not even halfway through when the man, the vampire expels it with his own wand.

 

So, it's a wizard-vampire. Draco isn’t sure why he is noting down these details in his head when he will be the meal of the said creature in a while. Maybe it is just his healer’s side taking over.

 

Draco tries to cast another spell but without his wand and being drained of energy, he is unable to conjure enough magic to do so.

The hooded figure is only a metre away now and Draco has finally resigned himself to his fate. The moment the vampire bares his fangs and closes on to him, a low growl from his right makes Draco whip in the said direction with lightning speed.

 

Before he could comprehend what was happening, a wolf, bigger than anything he has ever seen, with fur the colour of midnight jumps in air and crashes hard into the vampire who has gone stiff at the sudden intrusion.

 

The wolf, Draco is still in shock at its appearance out of nowhere, is growling like he is ready to peel the head off of the vampire.

 

With another glutoral growl the wolf starts to circle the vampire wizard who is whipping around in frenzy clearly not expecting this confrontation. Draco is not sure if he should feel assured by the wolf protecting him from the vampire or should be worried about his fate at the hands of not one but now two creatures.

 

The moment the vampire tries to run past the wolf, with a low growl and a pounce the beast scratches the vampire across the chest and locks his canines onto the figure’s neck. A blood curdling scream resounds into the quiet forest as the vampire falls on the ground with a loud thud. The beast however does not step away and keeps his one paw over the fallen wizard’s heaving chest.

 

The scent of fresh blood and flesh wound fills the air around them and Draco feels sick to his stomach. The wolf then looks at him and Draco for the first time notices the green eyes staring back at him that looks eerily familiar. Before he could think much though the wolf grabs a wand in his jaw and throws it at him.

 

Draco quickly bends down and relief floods him as he recognizes it as his own. He was about to straighten after grabbing it when loud footsteps, calls of a name and a commotion reaches him from the side. Before he could inspect, however, a stunner strucks him from the side and Draco becomes one with the blackness the second time in just few hours.

 

Draco fails to hear a howl after falling on the ground and hasty footsteps towards him and a strong muddy scent that surrounds him as a warm body cradles his body in its embrace.

 

 

***

 

The scent of potions and disinfectants peculiar to only one known place fills his senses and Draco knows where he is even before he has opened his eyes; even before his full consciousness returns back to him. This is the place he practically lives in and even if he is not particularly thrilled to have a role reversal, he is assured enough by the fact that he came out alive from last night’s turn of events.

 

As Draco’s eyes finally adjusts to the brightness of the hospital ward, he sees a familiar face of Padma Patil in her green robes inspecting the clipboard in her hands - most probably his diagnostic chart - the blonde thinks to himself.

 

The beep of the monitor, indicating Draco is awake, diverts the healer’s attention and she looks up at him with a slow smile. Before she could utter anything though, the doors to his ward are thrown open and in walks Ron Weasley, out of all the people.

 

He gives a stiff nod to Padma and before Draco could think of anything, previously hidden behind Weasley’s auror robes emerges Potter with his untameable mop of hair and a stupid smile.

 

“Malfoy, sorry about the stunner.”

 

Draco is thrown off guard by the sudden apology but it quickly comes to his mind how Weasley and the boy who lived _twice_ were investigating the case and had often visited the hospital in last one week.

 

A snarky remark - something like ‘thank god you knew a less damaging spell’ - is just on the tip of his tongue when the red-haired next words stun him to silence.

 

“I thought you were going to attack Harry. It was so dark and I was far away that I couldn’t make out your identity.”

 

The said male is fidgeting on his spot from the doorstep from where he has not moved an inch which is quiet uncharacteristic of the golden boy. By now he would have been driving Draco crazy by his relentless questions. But today he looks different.

 

Draco’s train of thoughts come to an immediate halt when the true meaning behind Ron’s words register into his potions induced mind.

 

_Attack Harry._

 

But there was no one there other than him, the vampire wizard and..

 

_And.._

 

**THE WOLF.**

Draco looks at Potter again and zeroes-on on his eyes and with a startle realizes that the green of his eyes seems familiar. The last time Draco saw eyes similar to these were last night, just that they were _NOT_ of a human.

 

The revelation being too much for his still healing self knocks Draco down unconscious yet again.

 

***

 

The black marble flooring of the Auror department of DMLE never fails to make Harry anxious. Ron has never understood the deal with it. “It's just the flooring, Harry”. He has said many a time but the reflection and the curt clicks of boot on the marble floor winds Harry up the wall.

 

They have just floo’ed back from the St. Mungo’s and are not looking forward to report back to Head Auror Robards without the statement of the main witness and the victim as well in this case.

 

Ron and he had hoped to get Malfoy’s statement but the governing healers asked them to step out of his ward and wait for another day when the blonde knocked himself out again.

 

Ron was sure the healer was alright a second ago and then suddenly the monitors were beeping and healers were filling into the room pushing them outside.

 

They are just around the corner of Robard’s office when Ron stops harry with a hand to his elbow. His eyes look shy and worried. Harry is already dreading what his best mate and partner is about to ask. He just hopes it is not what he has been worried about.

 

“Harry you never told how you found Malfoy last night during the attack in the forest.”

 

And there it is. Out in open. Laid bare and loud. Is there any way harry can escape this?

 

“I don’t know” he tries.

 

Ron just stares at him unblinking and something in those orbs remind harry too much of Hermione. He never thought one day Ron would start behaving like his wife too.

 

“ _Harry._ ”

 

 _Oh god! He even sounds like Hermione._ Harry groans in his head.

 

“I need time okay. I-i am still trying to figure it out.”

 

Ron just looks at him. His eyes searching for something. What? Harry is not sure. But a beat later, the red head nods and glances away.

 

“Okay.”

 

“Okay?” Harry is quick to question not knowing what Ron actually meant by it.

 

“You will tell me when you are ready.” Ron does not even look at him when he says it with such confidence.

 

When harry does not response and the silence has stretched long, Ron looks at him hesitatingly.

 

“You will, right?”, his words are not confident anymore and Harry feels ashamed to make his friend doubtful.

 

He nods, not really sure of his ability to speak coherently.

 

It was enough for Ron though, because then he is striding towards the office and with a sigh pushes it open, Harry following him close behind leaving thoughts of familiar scent and a blonde male behind.

 

***

 

“Hi Draco, how do you feel today?”, Healer Padma Patil struts in to his ward with a scarny little intern on her heels.

 

Draco glances up at the healer with bored expression and returns back to the file he was reading.

 

“Couldn’t take a break for even one whole day. Could you, Malfoy?” There is fake defeat in her voice as the smile on her face does nothing to hide the fondness.

 

Everybody at St. Mungo’s knows how Malfoy is married to his work. Getting him out of the hospital and to go sleep in his actual bed is such a task. When he said he practically lives there, he was _NOT_ joking.

 

“Can I be signed out of these hideous clothes now? I thought our healer robes were horrible but these are worse.” Draco says while looking distastefully towards the lime coloured patient robes he is wearing.

 

Padma just chuckles at him. The intern has a mind to not laugh outright if he does not want to be at the receiving end of Healer Malfoy’s wrath.

 

“I will just do the customary diagnostic spells and record those for file and then you can go.” she says as she prepares to cast.

 

After a handful of spells and cross checking them, Padma steps back and hands over the chart to the intern who quickly leaves to file the report.

 

“I will be outside”, she says and steps out of the ward for Draco to change in private.

 

 

Draco is relieved to finally be discharged. He has never liked being holed up in one room, lying in a bed with nothing better to do. If possible he would in fact like to start on his shift right away if Head Healer Claire will let him.

 

All his thoughts leave him, however, when he steps outside to come face to face with his two least favourite people in the world - Weasley and Potter.

 

Memories of their last interaction suddenly flashes in his mind, and his eyes suddenly darts to the person who is doing everything in his power to avoid his gaze.

 

_‘This means nothing. I am over thinking. He couldn’t be a- a…’_

Recounting last night, from what all he could remember was more tiring than he originally thought so. And all now Draco wants to do is go back to his manor and plant himself face first onto his silk sheets, soft comforter and a warm bed.

 

The whole ordeal was even more painful because of the way Harry bloody Potter made it so awkward. He wouldn’t look at Draco, even while asking questions - which was such a rude gesture and Draco wanted to give him a lecture on common etiquette but somehow managed to held it all in.

 

There was once a moment when Potter had looked at him with worry, his fists clenched and anger flashing in his green eyes. It was when Draco said he almost believed he was gonna die last night.

 

Not once they talked about how Draco was saved, or rather by whom. Weasley once again apologized for the stunner and Draco just brushed him off with a wave. He was tired and wanted nothing more than to get out of there.

 

After both the aurors are done questioning him and recording his statement, Draco gets up to leave only for Potter to halt him.

 

“Can I talk to you for a second?” When Draco looks up expectantly he adds on “in private”.

 

While they both walk towards Draco’s healer office - which is the only private enough place in St. Mungo's for him; all Draco can think about is a beast with fur color of midnight and eyes as green as the forest after rain.

 

Once inside, not knowing what to do Draco just stands there in complete silence. Potter is not doing great either if his fidgeting and occasional scuffs of shoes over the carpet are any indication.

 

Clearing his throat to get the other’s attention Draco asks Potter about what he wanted to talk about in a voice that masks his curiosity very well.

 

There is complete silence for a minute or so. Draco just waits patiently. He is not sure what he wants to hear or if he is ready for it even. He has an inkling though. Maybe a curse. It could not be a bite; he would have known then - not just as a healer in the hospital but it wouldn’t have been hidden from the press for long. And a bite in seventy percent cases does not transmit the lycanthropy and in the remaining cases only thirty percent gets the ability or curse - however one looks at it - to be able to shift.

 

What Draco saw that night was a full bodied wolf. And all Draco had been thinking about while lying in the hospital for a day was how that could be possible. Trust Potter to make it to that margin of percentage. Well he has always been an odd one out. Dodging the killing curse twice, so this should not come up as much of a surprise to Draco.

  
 

“I take it that you have realized who the wolf was”, Draco is brought out of his thoughts by the sudden voice.

 

It takes a minute for Draco to respond and still he just nods not knowing what to say.

 

Potter goes silent again but this time Draco looks at him closely; notices the tension in his body, a grim expression on his face, his tightly fisted hands and something coils within him.

 

“Potter, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Technically you are not even obliged too.” Draco surprises even himself with his words. He is dying to know but from the way Potter sagged a little bit, it is clear as day how _willing_ he is to talk about it.

 

“I am not worried about telling you about that but about what it implies.” Draco didn’t know Potter had a bone in him to be this cryptic and honestly he would have appreciated it much more if he was not tired and badly in need of rest after the events of last twenty four hours.

 

“Potter, as much as I am greatly surprised by your cryptic talk; if you don’t have anything important to say then I would like to go. If you don’t remember I have just faced a life and death situation.”

 

Trust Malfoy to be a dramatic arse in any situation that presents itself. Harry just rolls his eyes in exaggeration and when the healer tries to leave, with a silent swish of his wand, he locks the door and brings up privacy charms strong enough for a ministry meeting.

 

Now Draco is intrigued.

 

“We have been finding bodies - dried of any drop of blood - in a different part of Forbidden forest for more than a week now. But I am sure you know all that. You were there yourself when they were first admitted here.”

 

At Draco’s nod of approval Harry takes a step closer but almost immediately turns right to stand in front of a book shelf. He is suddenly tense once again.

 

“I have been in the forest for last five days. Thinking that I would be able to catch the culprit and save the next victim. But obviously it was all in vain.”

 

Draco is suddenly much awake. Five days. Potter has been in the forest. One part of him wants to taunt the other for not being able to catch the vampire fast enough but the other part of him knows how it would be such a douche thing to say. He decides to stay quiet and hear in Potter’s next words.

 

Potter caresses the spine of old medicine books that line Draco’s shelf and the gesture takes the slytherin by surprise. It has always been like this. Draco being drawn to everything that the black haired boy – who is now a man - does.

 

“I thought I would be able to locate them better if I roamed the forest. I forgot, however, how big and confusing the Forbidden forest could be. I couldn’t locate them until the victims were attacked. I could only find them through the scent of their blood. And by the time I would reach them - a body would greet me with no trace of that blood sucker.”

 

Draco cannot imagine looking at all those bodies and not just looking but finding them first prior to when they were attacked. The saviour in Potter must have gone crazy at the idea of not being able to save all those people in time.

 

“Ron told me to not do this. He knew it was messing with me. It was like the war all over again. People dying in front of me. And me being absolutely helpless about it.”

 

The sudden mention of war leaves Draco cold and shivering. All the memories come rushing back and it took a great amount of self control for Draco to not let it show on his face – the vulnerability, the pain, the guilt and the aftermath of it all. The nightmares never left him. They still haunt him and he knows they will continue to do so for a long time. The screams and cries of people; the flash of green of the killing curse; the scorching heat from the fiend fire; all of it still wakes him up screaming and sweating in his bed. The war may be over outside but it is still very much going on within him.

 

Draco buries his inner turmoil in a farthest corner when Potter starts to speak again.

 

“Head Auror Robards in fact asked me to stay back last night. But I just had to be there. Not just because I wanted to help at least one person but there was this dire need to be present there. I don’t know what it was but I felt different. More on edge and scared if I must admit.”

 

Potter is trying to avoid his gaze, Draco can see it but he is unable to look away. He is transfixed by what Potter is saying. Is he implying what Draco thinks he is? But Draco means nothing to him. Why would he...?

 

“I was roaming the forest like crazy for more than an hour when suddenly I sensed it. I didn’t know what it was at first because I had no idea myself if it was even possible. And I didn't actually know entirely until later.”

 

Draco wants to bloody punch the other to get the words out of him. He is fisting his wand tightly in his right. His left hand is clutching the back of a chair in a death grip. He is sure he would be throwing punches if he does not busy his hands.

 

“Potter, just say it.” His patience is running out and Draco does _not_ want to faint once again out of nerves in front of the git.

 

“I scented you the moment you landed in the forest. I mean I didn’t exactly know it was you but the air shifted suddenly. My senses picked up a strange presence and were suddenly focused on one thing and then I was rushing towards that direction instantly. I saw you then mere meters away from the creature and I don't really know what happened after. It is all very foggy in my head still. All I remember is I fought him and then Ron was calling my name and when I looked in your direction, you were lying there unconscious.”

 

It is not entirely the truth and Harry would be damned to tell everything to Malfoy. He hopes he look and sound convincing enough for the other to not notice the waver in his voice.

 

Harry remembered everything from that night. In fact everything in painful detail. The fear that had clouded his mind when Malfoy’s scent reached him. He had dashed at the speed of light. Fear overcoming his whole being and words like _must protect, run, save, kill_ roared in his head at that moment.

 

And then the second he saw Malfoy inches away from the vampire, all he could see was red. A strange madness engulfed him and he just leaped into air without much thought. He just wanted to kill the blood sucker. Why? He was not sure then. He is not fully sure now still.

 

But he went absolutely crazy when he saw Malfoy crashing the ground in front of him. It was like he himself was attacked. Before that his own emotions were so high on the peak that he could not realize that he was experiencing another set of emotions. However, as he quickly transformed back to his human form, still feeling the tremors of a stunner, he realized that something had changed forever that night.

 

He had called Malfoy’s name repeatedly while cradling his head in his lap. His body embracing the cold one of the blonde male protectively as Ron and other aurors had gathered around them.

 

Harry cannot tell this all to Malfoy though. Speaking of the other, the said male is sitting on one of the chair; his eyes boring ideally into distance. Harry is not sure if he is even breathing or blinking. He thinks Malfoy needs time to digest all of this and proceeds to leave when a hand shoots out to grab his.

 

The sudden contact sends sparks throughout his body and judging by how quickly Malfoy jerks his away and is looking at Harry wide eyed, he must have felt it too.

 

They are royally screwed is the only thought running in Harry’s mind at the moment.

 

“Potter, you piece of shit. You marked me!!!!”

 

The stormy grey eyes bores death glares on to his as pale deft hands clutches at the collar of his auror robes. Harry had expected a curse thrown at him. This is going well than he expected.

 

“I didn’t do it out of choice. It happened.” Harry says with unparalleled calmness that surprises even his own self.

 

“It happened?” Malfoy spats while releasing Harry and stepping away to prance like a caged animal.

 

_Oh the irony._

“Stop making my life any more difficult. Why can’t you just stay the fuck out of my life? If you had to prance away like a beast then do it. Why involve me?”

 

Harry looks on as Malfoy goes through a plethora of emotions. Anger, dejection, fear and something that Harry cannot pinpoint. But like he predicted, every emotion is a negative one. He himself was not any better when he realized what happened. He was not even sure he had the ability to mark - his bad luck that he has and he turned out to mark the only person who hated him more than he hated them.

 

 _But did he really?_ A voice in the back of his head questions him and he shuts out that annoying voice almost immediately.

 

Lost in his own thoughts, Harry fails to notice how Malfoy has already unlocked the door to his office and is about to leave. There is nothing more left to say and hear anyway.

 

But before the healer could walk away though, he turns to look at him square once again. His expression is still cold and menacing. And strangely it does something weird to Harry.

 

“What are you anyways?”

 

Harry expected that question and although not many people know, except his team of aurors, Head Auror Robards, and Hermione; Malfoy was entitled to know the truth after everything that has happened and the new dynamics between them.

 

But not so easily and not here, Harry thinks to himself. He asks Malfoy to go home and rest; that he will meet him soon to explain everything. And without another word, leaves the fuming blonde male behind as he sauntered past him and towards the floo channel.

 

***

 

Draco has always taken pride in his in-depth knowledge about almost everything; especially if it concerned magical creatures and medicine. He still remember those years after the war that he spent locked away in the manor’s old library because it was the only place - out of all the quarters still left to them and not under ministry acquisition - that held no vile memory to him. There was nothing much to do anyways. He was under house arrest. His father locked away in azkaban and his mother fairly occupied in dealing with ministry, with accusations, with his father’s trial, with the hostility, and with redeeming the Malfoy name.

 

Draco never understood, not then nor now, why she was going through so much pain to redeem something which was tarnished to ground. It would have been better to just leave this place and go far away. To live in solitude and in peace where the consequences of their wrong choices, of their mistakes couldn’t chase them. He knew though, deep down, he wouldn’t have survived that kind of life. She might have. But Draco already hated himself so much for being on the wrong side. For letting his father blind him from differentiating right from wrong. She always saw something good in him. Maybe it was the mother in her that made her believe that. But in the end she decided to fight for him because he was not doing it on his own. As he was busy being miserable. The outcomes of his past seventeen years weighing down on him.

 

So he worked hard to be his own person in last few years. To not be the son of a death eater, to not be an ex death eater himself, to make a life out of his family name.

 

The very first thought in his mind two years after the war, and immediately after finishing his probation was to go for potions master degree. He had studied a lot in the last two years. He knew he would be able to pass all the exams. But that was not enough. It was never enough. Nobody was willing to take him as an apprentice after he cleared the required N.E.W.T.S with an outstanding in each of the subject.

 

He was about ready to pack his bags and leave for France when he got an owl from his current boss, Healer Claire. She told him about an opening for an apprentice under her. She had seen his scores and he already took all the subjects necessary for a healer too as they were same as for potions so it all fit perfectly.

 

Saying he was surprised by the sudden offer would be an understatement. He had been rejected by each one of the potions master he approached. And so to get an offer on its own was not something he expected. There was at least one person who was ready to look past his family name, past the death mark on his arm, past his father. And Draco would be a fool to let go of such an opportunity. He grabbed it giving it his all. It did not take him long to start loving what he was doing. There was hostility, doubts, painful jabs, insults, occasional hexes and much more to encounter every day. But he took it all in. He deserved this much at least; he would say whenever Claire or others who became his friends would ask him to respond. It did not stop suddenly. It took years for him to make everyone see him as someone other than an ex death eater. But they saw it eventually. And even if there were still few glances and glares thrown his way. There were far more smiles and politeness and above all respect for his work in the eyes of others.

 

 

 

Draco liked knowing everything. He did not take it well when something missed his attention, when questions were left unanswered. He hated when people left his questions unanswered as well; especially when he already have a tense relationship with the said someone.

 

Potter is the bane of his life. The cause of every problem he had to encounter in his life. Draco is still having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that Potter marked him, out of all the people out there, as his mate. What even!!!

 

Does Potter even like guys, Draco has no idea. And he could decipher from the little story Potter told him that marking him was not by choice.

 

Draco knows a little about marking. It Happens when the beast in you finds someone they deem the most compatible. But there is hardly any compatibility between them. They can’t even stand each other. No more than five minutes and they will be about ready to hex each other into oblivion.

 

Not to forget the big elephant in the room. How the hell Potter turned into a wolf? A full bodied wolf in fact and not just someone who inherited certain traits - out of a bite or a  curse - it does not matter. It has to be a curse. There is nothing else that could explain it. There is actually nothing that could explain this whole ordeal - wolf and the marking alike.

 

 

***

 

“So” Ron pulls the 'o' unnecessarily long and Harry is not sure what it implies but has no time to linger on it much as the ginger head continues with “you mean to tell us that you marked Malfoy. Malfoy, of all the people! How can you even mark on someone?”

 

Honestly, Harry had imagined a lot more questions from Ron. But seeing the look of confusion mixed with something akin to disgust and maybe slight disappointment must have something to do with the absence of more questions.

 

That does not mean though he is enjoying any of this. Far from it actually. Harry knows Ron has some unresolved enmity with Draco. Before sometime ago, even Harry felt the same. Everything is changed now however.

 

“I did not know at first. It was actually Draco who said so.”

 

“Draco!”

 

The accusation in Ron’s shout was apparent and it took Harry a minute to realize what just slipped his mouth.

 

“Since when did Malfoy become Draco to you?”

 

Harry is not sure himself. It was not something he planned. It just happened. Maybe decided by that part of him who took him as a mate as well? But before harry can linger more on that thought Ron is again saying something, rather loudly.

 

“Wait- what? You told him about this first? Before even us?”

 

“Ronald, enough. Stop behaving like a child. We are no longer in Hogwarts. And since this is something that concerns Draco equally, it is only fair to tell him first.”

 

Harry is so grateful to have Hermione as a friend and someone who can save him from Ron. But that does not mean he was not worried about her reaction too. She has rather troubled memories of her own with the Malfoys. He hopes she knows that he wouldn't do anything that troubles her. That troubles both of them.

 

Maybe she understands that inner turmoil Harry is going through because she is smiling softly at him. Her warm hands are grabbing his in a reassuring squeeze and just like that all the tension bleeds away from his body.

 

“How can Harry mark though? He is not really a wolf.”

 

Ron is right and that is the only part that Harry seems to not able to figure out. He was not even aware he was capable of marking.

 

“You said Draco told you that. Are you sure he is right? Maybe he was mistaken.” It was Hermione this time who voiced out her concerns.

 

“I suspected as well. And to be honest I told him in the hopes of being wrong. But he only confirmed what I feared.”

 

Harry had thought about it a lot. After they had admitted Draco to St. Mungo's and other aurors were busy with investigating the vampire who was caught, Harry had nothing else to do. After giving a brief to Head Auror, Ron had surprisingly left Harry alone to himself. Maybe his friend was aware he needed time. Ron had no idea then. Harry is not sure even he had too. All Ron knew was Harry was able to get to the victim on time. That Harry had injured the vampire to almost death. That he had saved Draco Malfoy’s life. He knew Harry was exhausted just like him so he had left him alone. And all Harry had done was think about the incident again and again.

 

“What now then?” There is irritation in Ron’s voice but also a sign of resignation. As if he has no other choice than to accept the fact that his best mate might possibly be bonded to their childhood nemesis.

 

Harry and Hermione just looks at him with fondness which the other chooses to ignore completely and instead keep mumbling things under his breath that mostly sound like - ‘that pointy git’ and ‘ferret’.

 

“I will help you of course, Harry. But I think this time Draco is the one who could really help you more. Not just because he is in a way involved in it but he is a practiced Healer and I know his expertise is in creatures. So maybe he can answer your questions.”

 

Harry never thought a day would come when Hermione would ask him to get help from Malfoy instead of her but maybe there is always a first time for everything.

 

“Did you told him though?” she asks suddenly and harry is confused about what and he asks her that in response. Ron is just looking at them both uninterested.

 

“About how you are able to shapeshift into a wolf.” She chooses her words very smartly not revealing much as there is always someone around who could hear it. And although it is not a very big secret but it is something that Harry would like not many people to know. And one more addition is already gonna happen soon which he is not really looking forward to.

 

He shakes his head in negation and Hermione just sighs sadly while Ron looks relieved - about what - Harry is not sure and is not eager to even find out.

 

Draco has to know. No matter how much Harry does not wish to tell.

 

 

***

_~ **tbc** ~_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that it took me ages to get this out and unfortunately there is still more left which, if stars will allow me to, I'll post soon.  
> So do come back to read more.  
> Thank you for all the love and support and sorry if you get confused by alternate povs. I tried to separate them as best as i could. Still if you are confused lemme know.

 

 

“Potter, contrary to what you might think I don’t have the whole day to just stand here and watch you pace left and right pathetically.”

 

Harry would have wished for anything but this. He has no idea how to deal with Malfoy and his lack for being civil for even a second. He never wished to have anything to do with this blonde male in his entire life. Fate, however, has always been out to get Harry. And now he is stuck with Malfoy in some kind of a twisted way because his inner animal thought it was best to fuck with him to be funny.

 

When Harry had owled Malfoy to meet, the other had replied almost instantly to floo to his office which was very convenient for him too. If, and to be honest it will surely happen so when, they both end up hexing each other then it will be highly fortunate to be just steps away from the Spell Damage ward to be able to get treated immediately.  
  
Harry has stopped pacing and is now looking straight at Malfoy who is not backing away as well. It is like Hogwarts all over again. There feels to be like a challenge in their gazes when there is anything but that. They both have been dramatic when it came to interacting with each other anyways - something that Hermione has told harry repeatedly since their schooldays.

 

“Are you sure about what you said last time?” Harry gives up the stupid staring competition first and moves on to more important matters at hand.

 

“You would have to be more specific than that, Potter. We both said a lot of things last time we met.”

 

Harry balls his hands into a fist and counts to ten while keeping his eyes tight shut. It is something that he saw on a therapy programme on telly once and has since then adopted the method to keep his temper in check. So far it has worked but with Malfoy, his temper has always been heightened so he is having a hard time not to scowl, or growl, or to swear rather colorfully and if possible to land a bruising punch on his handsome face.

 

_Handsome!_

What the hell is he even thinking? Harry questions himself in his head for a minute. And totally forgets that he is still standing in Malfoy’s office with his eyes closed and body tensed while a question is left hanging in the air between the two of them.

 

Malfoy scoffs and the sound echoes in the silence occupying them, startling Harry to look at him with an expression similar to that of a deer caught in the headlights. Not that Malfoy would understand the muggle expression anyway.

 

“About me marking you. That’s what you said that day. Are you sure about that fact because I don’t..”, Harry leaves the sentence hanging there gesturing between themselves to indicate what he means, which he is sure the pointy git understood completely well but still appears clueless. The smirk on his face though does little to help hide that fact.

 

“What? Use your words, Potter.”

 

Malfoy is full on grinning now. And Harry has the sudden urge to wipe that smug look off of his face with either a punch or a hex, he cannot decide.

 

Harry has no idea why it is so hard to tell the truth to the blonde male. It is not even that big of a deal but is undoubtedly something sacred for him. Something that he cherishes with all his being. Something that he -

 

“Potter!” Harry’s inner monologue is interrupted by the sudden call of his name in the most irritated voice possible. Before he can counter back though, his magic pulses indicating a spell being thrown at his privacy charm bubble. He looks at Draco and the other has already sensed it somehow because he is lifting his finger in a motion to ‘stay put’ and crosses the room to throw open the door with a swish of his wand, dismantling Harry's privacy spell in the process.

 

 

***

 

Draco feels it the moment Potter’s magic is rippled by outside. He is not sure if it is because of how strong the brunette’s magic is or because of the new status acquired between them. Draco is confused about which one to hope for. He does not have time to linger on that thought as he finds himself moving across the office to unlock the door with a carefree flick of his wand.

 

“Draco! I thought you had already left.”

 

Padma, out of her healer robes and dressed in muggle clothing, greets Draco with a question and a confused expression.

 

“You were not-”.....”Oh, Harry!” She exclaims suddenly and Draco is itching to grab his head in his hands. He cannot imagine the amount of trouble this is gonna cause him. He can already see the smirk playing on Padma's face. She had been insufferable since his accident anyway; annoying him with repeated questions about Potter and his strange behavior - that daft.

 

“Patil…”

 

“Harry, what a surprise? I didn’t know you were visiting. Are you here for the case?” Draco can already see the Cheshire expression on her face. She clearly knows Potter was not here on auror duty. She would have known of Harry arrival then.

 

“Ummmm…”

 

 _Great! Intellectual as always_ , Draco scoffs internally at Harry’s response or lack thereof.

 

“You wanted something. Anything _important_.” Draco presses on the last word with a scowl intending his message to be received clearly.

 

And Padma just stares at him. First in slight annoyance which completely morphs into one of surprise once she studies Draco carefully.

 

“You forgot. Didn’t you?”

 

And Draco has no idea what she is on for a minute and then he is gasping in realization.

 

“Oh Merlin! The meeting. Claire must be pissed.”

 

“Relax Draco. The meeting was cancelled.” Before Draco could switch into his dramatic mode, Padma settles down his theatrics with her announcement.

 

“Oh.” Draco hears some rustling behind him and turns to find Potter has moved back to his book shelf and is actually going through one of his medicine books. What has gotten into this git, he wonders soundlessly.

 

“You weren’t there for the meeting when you never skip it so I thought you must have missed the memo and left early. But seeing how you are busy” a pause in which Draco can hear a hundred thousand teasing remarks he would be subjected to in the future and then Padma continues to “I will see you tomorrow”, which is nothing but code words for ‘we are so gonna talk about this tomorrow’.

 

Draco hates ever confiding into her after one too many drinks all those months ago.

 

***

 

Harry has no idea what Malfoy and Padma are talking about but seeing the way Malfoy is all tensed up, it must have been something related to work. Now Harry feels bad for dropping by on such short notice. Maybe he should have waited till Malfoy was off duty or on his leave day. But truth be told, he had no patience left to just sit still and not find out about what was going on. He is feeling a strange mix of emotions towards the blonde, which are not different from what he felt for the healer during school days but there is this underlying overwhelmness that Harry can’t pinpoint where it is coming from.

 

Harry tries to busy himself and not appear like he is eavesdropping, which he is not. No. He is glad that Padma didn’t continue to engage after greeting him. He does not even know how to look at her without running away. Ever since the Yule ball, there has been this air of awkwardness between him and the Patil sisters which quite frankly he never tried to dissipate. And now it is just there - undisturbed and permanent.

 

Harry feels it the moment Malfoy spreads privacy charm back in its place. It is strange to feel someone else’ magic and the shiver that runs down Harry’s body makes every strand of hair on his body stand in awakening.

 

With his forehead rested on the mahogany door and shoulders slumped in defeat, this picture of Malfoy ignites something within Harry that he is quite unable to name.

 

_Is this because of the bond between them?_

He hopes so because if it is anything else, Harry is unsure of how to react to that. He clears his throat to get Malfoy’s attention and the other whips around so quickly; though the look of surprise instantly morphs into one of annoyance. It is fascinating to see how Malfoy transitions into one emotion from another so fast. Maybe he had forgotten all together that Harry was here after his little chat with Padma, Harry thinks to himself.

 

“Maybe we should do this some other day.” The words are out of his mouth unchecked and there is no way to backtrack now. It is probably for the best.

 

“No.”

 

Harry stares with an arched brow not expecting this response from the other. Malfoy does not look like he wants to do this today but his answer speaks otherwise, confusing Harry to no end.

 

“I don’t want this -”, Malfoy gestures between them both with a scowl on his face, “us meeting to become a thing. You were here to tell me something and you will do that and then go. I want to end this for once and all.”

 

The words are not said rudely but there is an edge to Malfoy’s voice which Harry does not quite know where to place. He has never been good at reading people. But with Malfoy, his senses have always been heightened. Malfoy is not showing everything he feels. He is masking something. His anger or vulnerability - Harry cannot tell which one exactly.

 

“C’mon Potter. Let’s get this over with.”

 

Malfoy is not slouching any more but Harry can still feel the tension oozing out of him.

 

Keeping aside the feel of emotions, not his own, Harry prepares himself to tell the other the truth. He was ready to bare himself when he first floo’ed here but as the moment finally stands before him, he hesitates a bit. He promised himself though, that he will tell Malfoy everything. As it was his right to know the truth and Harry needed answers of his own. Answers that for once Hermione could not provide him and ironically could be given to him only by the person who caused this whole ordeal.

 

“Do you know about Marauders?” Harry does not meet Malfoy’s eyes and pretends to appear busy scrolling through a random book he picked up from the bookshelf. He is sure Malfoy is not buying his act but it feels better to busy his hands and eyes with something other than stare any longer at the blonde male.

 

“Potter!”

 

“I am serious. This is important. I am not stalling.” Harry replies in quick succession and stares hard at the other man.

 

When Malfoy just sighs in annoyance and does not say anything, only shaking his head in negation, Harry deems it as an acceptance to continue.

 

“There was a group of four students - Gryffindor - who called themselves marauders during their Hogwarts days. My father was one of them.” Harry pauses to swallow down his emotions. He does not talk about his parents often. People who are close to him already know everything and people who are not, he does not want them to know. He has never found himself in a predicament similar to the current one. So it is hard for him to decide how to react properly. It is not every day that he tells his nemesis about his closely guarded rare memories of his family.

 

Harry does not fail to notice the flash of surprise that passes through Malfoy’s face at the mention of his father; even if the blonde pretends to smooth his expression into one of nonchalance seconds later.

 

Harry breathes out a short sigh and thinks it's better to just tell everything in one go or he would never be able to. His brain would keep distracting him otherwise.

 

“My father, Sirius Black, Professor Lupin and Peter Pettigrew - the four of them called themselves The Marauders. They were best of friends.” Harry says it bitterly only because of how he had to name Pettigrew as a friend. He was anything but a friend. The wince let out by the blonde man at the mention of his name does not go unnoticed by Harry but he tries to ignore it in favour of continuing his words.

 

“Professor Lupin, as you were already aware was cursed with Lycanthropy, would turn every full moon into a beast. And his friends hated to see him alone at that moment. So as a way to support him, they all became…” Harry pauses to take a deep breath because he is aware how his next words would bare his secret to Malfoy.

 

“ **Animagus** ” Draco surprisingly finishes his sentence.

 

“Merlin! I should have guessed. I knew it was not a curse or a bite. But I never thought you would be…”

 

Draco stops then taking in the look on Harry’s face.

 

“What?”

 

“You are taking it quite well for some unexpected reason.” Harry just says which had Draco narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

 

“What then? Should I be scared or disgusted? What do you mean? Not everyone is able to channel their animagus form. And for most wizards and witches their animagus form is same as their patronus. But if I remember correctly your patronus is a stag! And your animagus form is a bloody wolf. That's quite impressive even if I hate to admit that.”

 

Harry tries not to smile but is miserably failing at that. He knew Malfoy has changed but never thought he would hear sense from the other. He decides to tell the blonde more.

 

“After the war, it was difficult to get out. I hated how everybody treated me. Not all the people who lost a loved one were not mad at me. Some of them were very angry and they would say things and then… It was getting difficult. I was mostly holed up in Grimmauld place. Not the best place to live alone but I had no choice. It became awkward to stay at the burrow after Ginny and I broke up.”

 

Harry knows he should stop speaking any further. Malfoy does not want to know about his life but something in him tells him to just say it. And the fact that Malfoy has not left or stopped him makes it even harder to stop.

 

“I was looking for something to pass my time when I found the letter between my father and godfather.”

 

Harry stops when Malfoy looks at him wide eyed. He thought everybody knew about his godfather but maybe that's not the case.

 

“Sirius Black,” Harry says the name slowly “was my godfather.”

 

“I had no idea.” There is something in Malfoy’s voice which makes Harry turn sideways. Not being able to look at him head on. It's a mix of remorse and guilt and a lot other things that Harry does not want to deal with at the moment.

 

There is so much history between them two that Harry fears that will there ever be something peaceful between them.

 

“He was my -”

 

“Cousin. I know.” Harry interrupts Malfoy with a tone of finality. The other takes the hint and does not say anything else.

 

“My father and Sirius talked about Remus and how to be there for him a lot in the letters they exchanged over summers.”

 

“And in one such letter they talked about being an animagus and asking Professor Mcgonagall for the help and I just knew what I had to do. Not just to escape people but I wanted to be close to my father. I felt like this way I would be able to feel him around myself more. So I met Professor Mcgonagall and here I am.”

 

With these final words Harry bares himself out loud in front of a person he hated for years but the very same person whom a part of him accepted as an equal - as a mate.

 

Harry fidgets on his spot as Malfoy’s unrelenting gaze pierces through him. After what feels like an hour but probably only minutes in reality, Malfoy finally steals his glance away and walks away to sit on his desk chair. His healer robes, which were carelessly hung at the back of the chair slips to the floor. Malfoy does not notice though. He appears to be staring blankly at his desk full of reports. Harry knows it is a lot to take in but still he never expected a reaction like this from the blonde male.

 

 

***

 

 

It’s a lot to take in. What all Potter just told him; why would he even do that, Draco is not sure but it's hard to digest all the information.

 

 _Animagus_.

 

He knew he had known the answer all along. The answer lay in the back of his head, only it took him this long to realize it.

 

As potter narrated his story, the answer emerged clear through the fog of thoughts in his head.

 

Even if the answer was not too unexpected like he thought it would be, it was still not easy to accept especially because of how it changes the whole equation. Lot of things that didn’t make sense earlier now does. Other things that he thought were simpler became ten folds complex instantly with this big reveal.

 

To top it off Draco is unable to look away from Potter. If what he experienced earlier was just a glimpse of power that resides within him then how in abundance it would be for him to be able to have an animagi form of such caliber.

 

_A fucking **wolf**. Sweet Merlin._

 

It is not unheard of wizards and witches having a patronus and animagus form different but it is extremely rare. But trust Potter to be the one doing the unthinkable - rarity being his middle name.

 

Draco knows he is staring which is making the savior fidget in his place but Draco cannot help but stare. He can still feel the pulse of magic - Potter’s magic that barely touched him but shriveled him up.

 

There are so many questions that are answered now but so many new emerged. And the biggest and most important of them all being ‘how the hell Potter marked on him?’

 

The sudden voice of the said man startles Draco out of his thoughts.

 

“Huh”, very eloquent. Maybe Potter is rubbing off on him, the healer thinks to himself.

 

“You asked ‘why’. What why?” Potter asks finally looking straight at him for the first time during this whole conversation.

 

Without Draco’s knowledge his brain had deemed it necessary to ask another question. He knows which ‘why’ he might have meant but is it okay to ask it now. Does he have the authority to ask that of Potter? Will Potter even tell him? But then he remembers how the other has already said so much without him asking. Maybe he wants to tell Draco all of it. And maybe if Draco presented his question nicely and politely, Potter would indulge him with an answer.

 

However, it seems, Draco took too long a time to conjure a question because when he snaps out of it and looks at Potter, or the place he has been standing on the last time; there is no Potter there now. In haste, Draco looks around and finds the said man near the door, about ready to exit.

 

When did he get there? Why Draco didn't hear him walk towards the exit? He couldn’t even sense the privacy charm lifting, only now when he focus does he notice that Potter has already dissipated the spell.

 

“Wait”, Draco yells but gets embarrassed by the urgency in his voice and repeats it again in a lower and less urgent voice all the while trying not to blush.

 

It’s hard to formulate the right words to ask the question. But if he delayed any more second, Draco thinks he might not be able to ask it or most probably Potter will leave before he gets the chance.

 

“W-why”, Draco stands up to walk towards Potter who had stepped back into the middle of the room. They are just at arm’s length away so Draco stops, and with head held high and looking straight at those set of green eyes, asks what he had wanted to since that night in the forest.

 

“- is your animagus form a wolf?”

 

Draco keeps staring without blinking as Potter regards him with such intensity. Only the slight raised eyebrows were the reaction his question got from the golden boy or should they call him a golden man now. Unnecessary thought, Draco thinks and pushes it away.

 

Potter is the one to finish their impromptu staring contest as his eyes leaves that of Draco and scan the room, the bookshelf, Draco’s desk, the healer robes still slumped on the floor beside the desk chair, the glass cabinet full of vials of potions and then as if he was searching for something and has found it, they settle back on Draco with a calmness that was not there a minute before.

 

“I don’t know”, with such causality it is spoken that Draco, for a second stands there with mouth wide open and a stumped expression.

 

“What?” The healer asks once he has regained his senses and is able to formulate a coherent albeit inquisitive response.

 

Potter does not answer though. With a heavy sigh as if the question physically pained him, he once again scans the room and Draco almost loses his cool.

 

Almost.

 

 

***

 

Harry knows Draco is getting agitated. He is also aware of how he is trying to escape the blonde male’s gaze. There is nothing in the office that interests him, contrary to what Malfoy must be assuming. Nor is Harry trying to search for something. Yeah, if there was a secret passage out of here, he might have been tempted.

 

It is not like he does not want to tell. Anyways, how do you explain something that even you are not sure of? Of Course he does not fucking know why his animagus form is different than his patronus. He doesn't know why it is a wolf too. He also does not know how much power one needs to exhibit to have two completely different species as animagus form and a patronus.

 

He doesn't know. But also he is not completely unaware. He did talk to Professor Mcgonagall and Hermione, god bless his best friend, who had been so forward in helping him find out answers to his questions.

 

Is he ready to tell all of them to Malfoy though? Not necessarily.

 

It is not easy to suddenly trust your childhood nemesis. To tell them things he has closely guarded all his life. To tell them things about him that only people extremely close to him knows.

 

And how do you even tell it to the person you hated half your life. The person who bullied you. The person you tried to kill. The person you saved the life of and vice versa.

 

Even if that person is potentially your mate.

 

Harry needs time. He came about ready to tell Malfoy about ‘How’ he was a wolf not “Why” he is a wolf.

 

He looks at the healer, who was already looking at him, quite intensely if he may so add. And Harry realizes that Malfoy’s eyes have a blue tinge added to its usual stormy grey. Were his eyes always the color of this? He never noticed and that must be something because Harry was obsessed with the blonde during their Hogwarts days. He would have noticed. Maybe it’s something adulthood has gifted him or maybe it is just a permanent reaction to always surrounded by infection and potion.

 

Harry, however, is brought out of his rabid thoughts by Malfoy’s next words.

 

“Don’t bother. Sorry I asked.” Malfoy does not meet his eyes as he says it and turned around to walk towards his desk. Maybe he could feel Harry’s inner hesitation because his words completely contradict his curiosity to know more just moments ago.

 

 

Harry is surprised. Not by Malfoy giving up so soon and so easily but the way he threw the word ‘sorry’ so casually. He does not remember Malfoy ever apologizing even once during their school years.

 

Is this the same person? Probably not. He knows Malfoy has changed a lot. Harry has been a witness to it a lot of times. But still, can someone change completely?

 

He is aware of how much Malfoy wants to know the reason; can see it in his eyes, in his body language. The tension in his shoulders, the strength he is putting in fisting his palms. The way he is trying to busy himself by organizing the files on an already neat desk.

 

The question, however, is if Harry is ready to tell everything to the other.

 

Suddenly something flashes in his head - That first night they bought the vampire victim into St. Mungo’s. Harry had seen the look of absolute horror on the healer’s face on seeing the condition the man was brought in but it was gone the very next second to be replaced by a professional and determined look to save his patient at any cost. Harry saw with his own eyes how hard Malfoy had tried to save that dying man - a stranger. He had seen Malfoy as a healer previously too. He had known how the other was a good healer, a respected one. How Malfoy was one of the best. How he had raised to that level after continuous refusal. Harry has heard the same people who said nasty things to him before, bowing at him with respect. But that day, watching the blonde doing everything in his power to save that injured on-the-verge of dying man, and not giving up even when everybody around asked him to stop because the man was gone. And how his hands had shivered on hearing those words and how he had quickly left in haste. But not before Harry had noticed the tears that started to freely flow through his resigned eyes. Harry had completely realized then how much Malfoy had changed for the better.

 

With a startle, Harry discovers that he has been ready to tell Malfoy everything since before his beast even marked the other. He had already put his trust in him. Maybe that’s why his wolf deemed him as a mate.

 

“I -”, he starts only to stop when Malfoy drops an empty vial on the floor next to his desk, by accident or on purpose harry is not sure. Maybe the healer was telling Harry to get out without spelling it.

 

Harry takes a deep breath, looks at the back of the person he never intended to have anything to do with ever; smiles a little at his crazy fate and launches into a tale of wolf - his wolf.

 

“My wolf is a timber wolf”, Harry starts in a quiet voice and stops to gauge Malfoy’s reaction whose back tenses a little at first and then go lax. The blonde still does not turn around though but neither tell Harry to stop or get out. No more vials end up on floor so Harry taking this as an approval goes on with his story. He starts from the beginning. About how broken and betrayed he felt after the war. Not to forget how he came back from the dead. Harry assumes Malfoy must have known that detail, his mother being the first one to know it on that night of the battle. He sees Malfoy twitching at his telling of the dying part and is unable to comprehend why it brings him relief but weirdly, it does.

 

“There was a time when I did not want to move from the bed. Eating, washing up, speaking, walking - all these mundane things felt like chores that my body and mind could just not do. Even Ron and Hermione were unable to get through me. It was just me and kreacher in Grimmauld place. I literally thought I would not wake up one day. It would have been something - the saviour dying in his sleep. No curse. No accident.”

 

Harry knows Malfoy is looking at him horrified after his last confession. This is something he never told anyone. Not even his mind healer. Although Ron and Hermione might have suspected his thoughts but they never talked about it directly. So saying it out loud, makes it even more real but also at the same time he feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest. Something that he carried around for long, like an albatross hung around his neck.

 

In the coming hours, harry might regret telling it to Draco Malfoy of all people. But right now, he is not gonna keep anything bottled up anymore. He will let lose everything. Maybe as his potential mate, Malfoy deserves to know all this.

 

 

***

 

 

“I don’t know how I ended up in Sirius’ room one night. But all I remember is sobbing uncontrollably. I think it was the first time I cried after the war. Something must have triggered my emotions. Maybe Sirius’ journal, or his bike, or his poster - anything or maybe all of those things. Kreacher had found me next afternoon there. He didn’t say anything. It was a first. He always had something to say to me. Maybe it was the day we both realized it was just the two of us with the ghosts of Black brothers imprinted in our hearts forever. I think I found the letter few days later though; they were hidden under a fidelius charm. Even Kreacher had no idea they existed. It took me another two days to actually be able to open them to read. Every time I tried, my vision blurred and I would end up sobbing. It was becoming a routine and a little annoying to be honest.”

 

Potter might be snickering now while reminiscing those terrible days of solitude and hurt. But Draco can still feel the wave of pain emitting from him. It is not so different than his own. He knows all about pain and solitude; feeling broken and betrayed; on giving up to never wake up again. He had his mother at least but Potter had no one except for an old bitter house elf for companionship. He is startled out of his thoughts by Potter moving closer to him, the latter is not looking at him though. It feels like he is lost in his own thoughts and is unaware of his surroundings. Draco cannot help but become conscious about the shortening distance between them.

 

“There were so many letters. Some were just normal letters that teenage friends exchange full of laughter and their summer holidays endeavours. Some were regarding Sirius and his family. And some more were regarding Remus. A lot were actually regarding Remus and how to help their friend. My father seemed to have researched quite well on how to help their friend. He was the one to suggest becoming animagi too. It is said that presence of other creatures help calm down a werewolf during his transformation. Since werewolf only attacks humans, it was safer for them to be around their friend during the full moon in not their human form to help him out.”

 

Draco knows all of this and had already identified the reason behind Potter’s Dad and his friends becoming an animagus. He does not stop Potter from telling it though. God knows how long he had kept all of this inside of him. With every word, every passing sentence, Potter seems to lose the thread of tension from his body. Draco can feel the wave of his strong magic settling down as his mind finally starts to find peace. So he does not intervene and let Potter tell his story.

 

“It took my dad three years but I managed to acquire my form in five months. I have had help though. If not for Professor Mcgonagall and Hermione, maybe I would have never been able to transform. The first time I changed, it was scary. Like everyone else I had thought to be a stag - like my patronus - same as my father’s.”

 

“Wait”, Draco hated to interrupt but something important just occurred to him.

 

Potter, who was so immersed in his storytelling, jerks out of it so hard that he almost staggers back in his steps. His wide eyes and horrified look is enough proof that he had forgotten where he was and to whom he was reciting his story. It takes him a minute to discern his surroundings and to come in terms with the reality. His closed eyes could be a sign of calmness or of embarrassment; Draco cannot tell which one it is with absolute surety.

 

“If Professor Mcgonagall knew you were an animagus then why are you not registered?”

 

It is a common knowledge that Animagus have to be registered with the Ministry to avoid using their ability for illegal purposes. There have been records of unregistered animagus like Potter’s father and his friends. In Peter Pettigrew’s case especially, if they had known he was an animagus maybe things would have been different. After the war, the new ministry entrusted stricter laws, so anyone who had not registered prior to become an animagus was punishable to law and could serve years in Azkaban. This record is public. So, if Harry Potter had been a registered animagus, the whole wizarding world would have known. But since they don’t it only means he is unregistered. And Professor Mcgonagall knew. How did it happen? Did Potter use his saviour card to keep his status under wraps? Draco cannot help but snicker at the thought; so much for never using his fame and status for his own selfish motive.

 

“I was waiting for you to ask this question.”

 

If possible Draco would have liked to wipe that smug look off of Potter this very second. He manages to just scowl in response though.

 

“I registered but I was also supposed to join aurors soon. The first response from ministry was to not do it but then it was Hermione (like always) who came up with a wicked solution. She suggested that I use my animagus form in missions as undercover. It didn’t take much for DMLE to favour us when faced with Hermione reasons. So, to answer your question. I am actually a registered animagus but my record was kept hidden from the public. There is a special clause in the law for animagus who works for the ministry and protection of wizarding world to keep their status covet.”

 

Draco didn’t know that. Thinking to himself he again notices how lucky Potter is to have Granger as a friend.

 

Draco looks at Potter and realizes the other is looking back at him with a weird expression. And what is this? Is that a smile? Is potter smiling at him? His smile suddenly broadens into a grin and it confuses Draco until he realizes that he himself is smiling back at Potter.

 

The noise around ceases to exist. Draco feels like he has stepped in an altogether different dimension where only he and Potter exist. As if gravity pulling him, Draco finds himself moving towards Potter step by step. Potter too seems to be in a similar situation. And within seconds they both are standing too close to each other. They are able to feel each other's body heat and their magic starts to intermingle; producing colorful sparks, and shivers starts to run through both of their bodies.

 

They were just an inch away when suddenly a white and blue form emerges from outside the window and leaps into the room with a loud shrieking sound.

 

Draco peels himself away from Potter as if scorched. Potter, on the other hand, is staring wide eyed at the patronus that has just stopped in front of him after circling around them twice.

 

“Harry, you are late. Please come soon.”

 

The indistinguishable voice of Hermione Granger erupts from the otter thus revealing the identity of to whom the patronus belongs to.

 

Potter hastily casts a tempus and jerks around to look at Draco wide eyed “I have to go, sorry.”

 

“But-”

 

“I will tell you the rest next time.”

 

“How goddamn long is your story, Potter?”

 

And potter laughs at that - loud, boisterous and carefree. The only time Draco has seen him laugh like this is when he is with his friends. Being at the receiving end of Potter’s laughter brings a warm feeling to Draco. And the feeling intensifies exponentially when Potter turns around to look at him just before exiting and leaves Draco with a ghost of a smile and tingling warmth.

 

 

***

 

“You seem different today, Harry.”

 

This is the third time Hermione has suggested something on the same grounds since he arrived and Harry is not sure if he should be worried or not. Hermione usually gauges his feelings pretty spot on. He, however, does not want Hermione to see through these feelings of his this time.

 

When Harry had arrived late for their planned dinner, Hermione had looked at him suspiciously while Ron had given him a stink eye for keeping the man away from his beloved food as harry ran late for their dinner arrangement.

 

“How so? It’s the normal me only.” Harry says around the mouthful while skillfully avoiding looking straight at Hermione in hopes of not giving away his emotions.

 

Hermione pauses for a few seconds, looks at Harry with narrowed eyes, shakes her head and then proceed to eat dinner. It takes her only a minute to drop her cutlery and exclaim loudly as she remembers a very important piece of information.

 

“You were meeting Draco today, right Harry?”

 

Harry murmurs an ‘oh shit’ under his breath but does not raise his head even an inch.

 

By this time Ron has stopped eating, which is a sign enough for Harry that something is gonna blow off and he is thinking if it is possible to apparate back home from this dinner table itself.

 

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” As if that would be of any help to him but harry has to at least try. He does not like the look Hermione is giving him. Ron at least has an expression of annoyance on his face which is expected and so does not scare Harry. But Hermione’s smirk is giving all kinds of bad vibes to him.

 

“Oh, I bet you do.” She is grinning now and Harry feels cornered so he does the only thing he can think of - to look at his best mate for some help and gets cheated on miserably.

 

“Oh I don’t wanna know what you had been doing this late night in Malfoy’s office, mate.”

 

“Ron!” Harry chokes on a piece of broth while Ron snickers and Hermione giggles uncontrollably.

 

_Yeah. Best friends._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [INSTAGRAM](https://www.instagram.com/drarrymalfoypotter)   
>  [TWITTER](https://twitter.com/sash4kyu)
> 
>  
> 
> (In case you are unable to access my Instagram that means I have temporarily deactivated it so feel free to ping me on twitter. I mostly cry about exo there but I do talk darry from time to time)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay. I have given up on giving this story a fixed number of chapters. IDEK anymore how long this will be. I am so sorry yet again but here have this chapter as a thanks if you are still sticking by.
> 
> Also my Instagram is gone (yeah I deleted it but if you wanna talk my twitter is a welcomed place. Link is in the note at the end.)

 

The next time they meet is at Grimmauld place. When Harry had invited Malfoy over he had serious doubts about if the other would even accept it or not. Malfoy, however, had seemed very keen on Harry’s offer. The reason of which he discovered later on when Malfoy arrived dressed like he has come for a ministry gala.

 

Harry meets Malfoy at the apparition point and questions his attire with raised brows.

 

“What?”

 

“Aren’t you too overdressed compared to the occasion?” Harry asks to which he gets only a scoff in response from the blonde male.

 

Shaking his head in light annoyance and humour, Harry allows them both to step into Grimmauld place, only to halt the moment they take two steps inside the front corridor.

 

“Did you feel that?” Harry is the one to ask that. Not exactly looking at Malfoy but to his surrounding worried that someone would jump them from somewhere in a flash.

 

“I did.” Malfoy answers calm and collected but he too looks around as if in wonder and awe.

 

“They were definitely not the wards.” Harry is not sure why Malfoy looks so comfortable with what just happened. The moment their feet had touched the floor inside Grimmauld place, a strong wave of magic had washed over them. Sometimes wards do that when a person is allowed access. But Harry had planted the wards outside the house and they already went past them. So what just happened was something beyond his thought process.

 

“The house just welcomed me.” Malfoy tells him in a whisper while he slowly fingers through the tapestries on the wall beside where once hung the portrait of Walburga Black, entirely clueless about how Harry is gawking at him from the back.

 

“Excuse Me.” Harry is aware of the similar muggle phrase but is absolutely sure that that was not what Malfoy meant. “You talk as if the house is a sentient being.” Harry settles at saying out loud only his last thought. He was expecting a lot of things but not this - Malfoy telling him his house just welcomed the blonde male; when even Harry does not feel welcomed in it some days.

 

“But is it not?” Malfoy counters with a nonchalance of a hippogriff and Harry is confused between either to laugh or scoff. He decides to just stride towards the living room leaving it up to Malfoy to follow him inside. As they take their seat on the couch from across each other, Harry notices that Malfoy is still looking around as if he is searching for something. He unknowingly voices his question and is instantly met with Malfoy’s blazing gaze that makes him surprisingly nervous.

 

"The last time I was here was when we hadn't even entered Hogwarts. Although I think I only visited twice but I remember this place more than I imagined. It has not changed much."

 

Harry is not sure what throws him off guard more. The fact that Malfoy have been to Grimmauld place or the fact that he insinuated that the Black house looks like what it has always been - haunted and unwelcoming, or was that just exclusive to Harry. Like Harry living here has not improved the eeriness of the house even in slight.

 

Malfoy must have seen the look on Harry's face because he stops scanning the room as if he is trying to gauge what all Harry failed to achieve with the house.

 

"You do know I am part Black, right? I visited with mother when I was little. I never met Sirius or his brother but I remember Aunt Walburga. She had scared the shit out of me the first time I saw her. I would say Aunt Bella had nothing on that old hag." Even if Malfoy is joking about his deceased aunt, Harry can still hear the tremble in his voice on naming her. He hopes the reason has nothing to do with missing her. And now that Malfoy had mentioned it, he does remember that if Sirius had not left him to inherit the Black house it might have collectively belonged to the blonde and Teddy.

 

"I think that's the reason the house reacted the way it did when I entered. God knows how long it had waited for a Black to step into the house."

 

Harry chances a glance around the room and realizes with a start that the house does feel more alive today - if that's even possible for a house to achieve. The room appears to be more lit and the permanent layer of dust covering the furniture seems to have vanished in a blink of an eye. The house even smells nicer - not hot, damp and suffocating like it usually does. Not only the house but even his oh-so-great companion of a house elf was acting strange since he told him about Malfoy coming over for dinner. Harry has never seen that look of pure joy on the battered elf's face ever. He looked weirdly human with that emotion on him.

 

Kreacher is in the house; Harry is sure if all the clattering voices are any indication but where exactly only god knows. Every time Harry heard noises from the kitchen and went in to check in case the elf had the kitchen on fire, he only found groceries and utensils lying around in a mess. There were still sounds coming from somewhere, somewhere underground if Harry tried to listen carefully but no sign of the old elf anywhere. And that's the second thing that annoys Harry - there are still places that he has not been able to explore in Grimmauld place. Mostly because he worried about what dark artifact he will acquire. It was a torture trying to throw away all the weird looking and dangerous antiques that littered around the Black house. The first of which were the horrendous looking house-elf's heads lining the staircase. Hermione had taken immense pleasure in getting them off the wall. Kreacher had whined, complained, thrown a tantrum along with the portrait of Walburga Black who wouldn't stop screaming profanities at him. At last Harry had hired an expert to take that bloody old hag off the wall. If given the choice, he would have loved to throw her under the bus, something that he never said out loud in front of kreacher as the elf was still giving him the silent treatment along with burnt toast for breakfast, lunch and Dinner. It's only natural; Harry had survived those few months of cleaning the house of dark magic on pizza and takeout. But that still had not made Harry change his mind on incinerating the wretched portrait. It was hermione, however, who suggested locking the portrait of Lady Black in the attic with a dozen or so silencio instead of doing something that might earn him the lifelong bitter treatment from the only other habitant of the house.

 

Speaking of the house elf, Harry hears the faint footsteps of Kreacher coming closer and closer and when he finally plucks his eyes away from Malfoy and his full Black ensemble, it is to the sight of Kreacher wobbling into the room balancing a tray in his hands.

 

_And wait! What? I-is that a wine bottle that is slightly tipping to the edge??_

 

Harry has never seen a liquor bottle in this house. No matter how much Harry asked Kreacher to get him anything alcoholic. Neither has harry himself seen any cellar in the house. Ron had argued for five minutes straight how there was no chance that Grimmauld place had no cellar. Harry had brushed him off even if he could practically feel kreacher lying through his teeth. He was filthy rich anyways; to buy crates of beers and anything else he wished to drink.

 

As Kreacher places the glasses on the table and fills them up with ruby red wine, Harry noticing offhandedly how the glasses are sparkly shining, Draco eyes him suspiciously and thanks Kreacher for his service. The said elf, for lack of a better word, glows up radically on getting praised by Malfoy - or probably it's the Black part of Malfoy that satisfies him. He appears far from his withered self though. It would be incorrect if Harry denied that he was not jealous of this whole ordeal.

 

Great! Just great! Not only did he mark Draco but it seems like Draco in some weird sense has marked his ownership over his house and the old elf.

 

When Kreacher had left them alone and Harry had made sure he is not lingering just around the corner worshipping Malfoy with his sparkling eyes, he gives his full attention to Malfoy who seems to be staring right back at him. It unnerves Harry to say the least. So he does the only thing he can think of. He picks up his wine glass and sips through the burning trail it leaves through his inside.

 

"I met Weasley few days ago." Harry almost swallows the drink through the wrong pipe on hearing Malfoy talk about meeting his best mate out of blue.

 

"Bonding over behind our backs I see." He obviously meant him and Hermione but does not clarify it on seeing the smirk playing on Malfoy's face. The git is definitely gonna say something crude.

 

"Why, jealous much, Potter?" And his words prove Harry right.

 

"You wish."

 

Harry knows Malfoy can see the challenge in his eyes but somehow manages to not rise to the bait. If anything, he feels a bit red in the face, maybe it is just the wine. Clearly, Harry is imagining things.

 

Sighing, Harry decides to put the other out of this air of unease.

 

"I know. Ron told me about it the same day. So what were you asking him? He just told me to answer you. About what though, he never said", which is obviously not true because Ron told him exactly what Malfoy had asked him. Also the answer that Ron gave him; something on the lines of 'ask Harry when you next meet him' as if they were meeting a lot. They weren't; or were they?

 

Seeing the slightly constipated look on the other, Harry is sure Malfoy remembers that conversation very well too.

 

"I-" Malfoy halts and pretends to sip his wine when there is hardly any left in his glass and Harry just looks on with a slightly curious expression. Even if he knows what Malfoy is gonna ask him.

 

"What happened to that vampire?"

 

"He died the next day obviously. You know that right but don't you?" Harry was confused that day when Ron had told him about it. Why Malfoy would ask the obvious question, Harry had thought to himself then. He was the healer on the case. He must know what happened.

 

"Actually no. I don't know. And everybody refused to tell me anything about the case after the -"

 

Malfoy stops before finishing his sentence. Harry can see he looks a little fidgety and his face has gone a lot paler than usual. It does not take long for Harry to realize what is happening and why Malfoy is asking him about something he should have known.

 

He should have but don't after that night when he became a victim - last one - too. Head healer must have prohibited him from taking any part in the case thereof. Harry should have realized this sooner. Seeing the look on Malfoy's face, the status of that vampire clearly holds importance to him. Merlin knows how many nightmares the blonde must be having of that night. Harry himself had few. None of which went the way reality did. Every nightmare ending with him thrashing and waking up with a scream. Malfoy must have been worried sick not knowing if the creature was still living, looking for him or dead already. They should have told him sooner.

 

"I am sorry. I had no idea you were unaware of the proceedings. The man died the next day. He had lost a lot of blood."

 

Harry looks a little unsettled about telling the last part. He had never injured someone so badly before during a hunt. Most of the times his team of aurors is always near so the moment he gets the hold of their culprit, the aurors are immediately upon him. But that night, Harry had not been an auror on duty. He had been someone else entirely. Still it does not please him to talk about almost killing someone without any ounce of remorse even if that person was a mass killer himself.

 

Malfoy looks relieved to hear that as if he was hyper aware of the fact that now nobody would jump him out of nowhere and almost kill him in the process. But harry knows it's much more than about his own safety. Malfoy was way more involved in this case. Harry had seen with his own eyes how spent the healer looked every time a victim died on the hospital bed. It is almost hard for Harry to believe that Malfoy would be worried about others. But people change. And the relief that showed on his face had more to do with 'now nobody would die on my watch' than 'now I wouldn't die on the hands of that monster'.

 

"Did you find out if there were more?" No matter how much he tries, Harry can hear the waiver in Malfoy's voice. Harry had no idea Malfoy was so affected by this accident. All the times they met in the past, Malfoy never asked him even once about the case or that vampire. Neither did Harry ever thought about telling him or imagined the other might be worried about his safety any longer.

 

"No. I mean no there was no one else. He was practicing the dark arts and we still don't know how but he managed to create a spell to turn into a vampire. But his theory backfired. Vampires are dead creatures. He was not going to live longer anyhow. The fool not only killed himself but other innocent people too. Healer Claire was able to extract the reservoir magic he used to cast the spell from his wand. We also got his signature. We are tracking it. So in case someone else got their hands on this spell and tries to cast it we will be notified immediately."

 

'I wouldn't let anyone else hurt you' was something Harry wanted to say but it was not what he had accepted by himself even. So how could he tell it to the other and deal with its consequences. He was not ready. They both were not.

 

Before he could do something completely regrettable like say something like ‘Don’t worry. You are safe now’, Kreacher comes to save the day.

 

“Masters,” _Masters?_ “Dinner is ready.” Kreacher informs before disappearing with a pop. Since when did Malfoy become his Master too? Harry really needs to have a talk with Kreacher.

 

 

***

 

Draco knows that Potter can feel the relief radiating from him but at this point he does not even care what Potter thinks about it. Draco has been so eager and worried sick to know about what happened with that vampire that he has not even slept calmly in last few weeks. None of his co-workers giving him any update on the case was close to making him go crazy. It was need of the hour when he had to turn to Weasley, of all people, for any information. It was a torturous moment, calling back the ginger head to _talk_. The git had though excused himself by saying he was running short on time and insinuate Draco to ask Potter as if they were what? Friends and met up often. Tsk.

 

As Kreacher vanishes into thin air Draco looks at Potter and finds him with an expression similar to like he has smelled his own rotten socks. Draco can practically hear him debating about something in his head, must be something stupid, Draco deduces and clears his throat in hopes of Potter getting a move on. Although he is nowhere near hungry but not eating would make things more awkward and Draco isn’t sure how the house-elf would react to him rejecting the food. Going by his personal experiences with his own house elves, they don’t take rejecting their food mildly. It causes a bloody disaster.

 

As they stand in front of the table where food that could sate a whole army has been placed, house-elves really, Draco faces another challenge - where to sit exactly. There is no point in sitting all the way to the other end of the table. If they are gonna talk about what's inevitable it is only reasonable to sit where they can hear each other properly without a dozen or so dishes separating them.

 

While he decides where to sit Draco's eyes landed on Potter who is gaping at the table, Kreacher must have outdone himself, Draco snorts inwards. Following potter's gaze Draco's settle on Kreacher who is avoiding looking at them while placing more dishes on the already cramped table. Looking between the two Draco realizes potter is giving the said elf a stink eye. _Why is Potter so bloody dramatic with his own house elf?_

 

Giving up on making any sense out of Potter's mood, Draco settles on the chair left to the head of the table. As potter takes his own seat on his right, all the while giving him a funny look, it finally dawned on Draco how bad of a decision it was to sit so close to Potter. Their legs are almost touching. Draco can feel Potter's body heat crashing over him from his toes up to his groin. _Oh god, this was a bad choice_. Maybe this whole dinner thing was a wrong move. Draco feels like if he breathed, they would be unbearably touching each other. Draco is hyper aware of every tingle that makes the fine hair on his legs stand. At that exact moment, almost like a vision, their last meeting flashes through his mind. Draco can still feel that fateful night; their close proximity; the heat from their bodies meeting each other. They were so so close. One move and they both would have been kissing. Draco is feeling that same pull of gravity now. And by the way Potter seems to look like he is holding in his breath, maybe he is feeling it too - the pull.

 

It cannot be the bond. No. What they have between them is not some bond working. Draco has seen a lot of bonds. Bonds make your head fuzzy. The power to process thoughts declines significantly. But he is painfully aware of everything around him. There is no confusion. No second thoughts on what he is feeling. It's the same he had felt that day - attraction. It terrifies him. Draco does not want to go back in time and feel what he used to a decade ago. It took him too long and too much effort to suppress his past feelings. But now potter is making it very difficult for him to continue the same.

 

They have not talked about what happened that day. Thank Merlin for that. What would he even say to justify that? Who even had made the first move, he does not know. And he is glad Potter is being ignorant about that as well. But what Draco cannot ignore is _this_. The fact that they are in Potter's house alone makes this all a lot more difficult to ignore.

 

Desperately in need to dissipate this atmosphere and the awkward silence, Draco chances on talking about what they had actually met for today.

 

"I searched about any wolf animagus in history but there was none. How is it that you managed to be a miracle yet again, Potter?"

 

Potter seems startled to hear his voice after an extended silence. Draco had gauged the reaction and had manoeuvred his body such that it wouldn't be touching that of the other when the oblivious git spasms like he predicted.

 

"Trust me, I have been asking myself the same since forever." Potter answers once he has stopped fidgeting and found his voice to actually use for what its purpose is.

 

The vague answer though does nothing to satisfy Draco's desire to get his answers. He had thought about it hard - why was he so intrigued by Potter's animagus form. At first he had thought about it being something he had to know as he was directly involved in it. Being marked by an animagus wolf and that too Potter was something Draco had not imagined even in his wildest dreams. _And boy did he dream about Potter? A lot_.  As time passed though, while Potter left most of his questions unanswered, the curiosity to know something that had never happened before; something that Draco was unaware of peaks everything else. There is a reason why he was a slytherin - it was not all about his blood status or his family name. It had a lot to do about how Draco was always so curious to know about things. Sometimes those things didn't even concern him and sometimes they led him into dangerous situations. But seeking knowledge has always been like second nature to Draco.

 

"Potter, are we really doing this or not? If you have nothing to tell me then why do you keep insisting on meeting me? I can't imagine you seeking my company because I, for one, cannot stand you and I had an impression that the feeling was mutual." Draco meant his words to have a tinge of humour but by the end of it he sounded annoyed even to his own ears. Well there is nothing he can do now.

 

"Why are you being such a git, Malfoy?"

 

"Ok. I am leaving then." Draco starts to get up. There is a thought in the back of his head that he is being too dramatic but also that he is escaping like a coward, not ready to admit he is feeling things in the presence of Potter that he had buried deep within him.

 

However, before Draco could step away from the dinner table a hand shoots out and suddenly Draco's wrist feels like it is on fire.

 

Potter must be feeling something too given his expression of extreme discomfort but still he does not let go of Draco's wrist and instead nudges him to sit back down.

 

Sighing and seeing no other option along with intending the warmth to be gone, Draco takes his seat again. And finally, Potter lets go of his hand. A redness appears on Draco's pale skin and it takes more than a minute for him to peel his eyes away from the contrast. It does not hurt. The warmth though is like travelling throughout his body from that point of contact.

 

"It's not like I don't want to tell you but more of how to say it. I am just -"

 

"Stalling", the word is out of Draco's mouth before he could comprehend and even though he is a little embarrassed to say that. It will take an army to make him accept that or show it on his face. The 'git' that potter murmurs under his breath does not even annoy him.

 

"Will you stop interrupting me? I am trying okay. And for your kind information, I am not stalling. Just like you said, there has been no record in history so I don't know how to explain something that has no explanation. Whatever I am gonna say is based on assumptions. It's all a theory. It's working for me and for moments like these when I have to explain it to someone else. But still it’s a theory not a fact."

 

Draco knows all of this. Of Course it will be a theory only. There has never been a wolf animagus ever before. In fact nobody ever thought it to be even possible. This on top of the rarity of a different animagus and patronus form is enough to be unexplainable.

 

"Who said I am here for facts? If I am dragged in this mess the least you can do is be honest with me. I think I deserve that much."

 

There is a sudden lump in his throat. Draco is not sure if what he said will have any effect on Potter, or will the other snicker at him. Like the others who thought of him as death eater scum and said he only deserved to die. It was a long time ago but still Draco meets people time and again who don't let him forget the past mistakes he did. Not like he will ever anyways.

 

Potter, however, does nothing of sorts. He actually does not even react. Just stares at Draco with a blank expression. It is quite unnerving for Draco to be scrutinized like this. Without being able to predict what exactly Potter is thinking about.

 

"I didn't lie about anything. So in my opinion I have been nothing but honest with you. I might have withheld some information but you can't really blame me. We have had a largely colourful history. It's expected of me to be a little hesitant. I have told you so much about me in the last few weeks whereas I know nothing more than I already knew about you. Don't you think it is a little unfair?"

 

Okay. That was not where Draco thought the argument would lead. Why did it end at Draco being asked to reveal something about him? How did Potter even reach that conclusion, all on his own?

 

“If I may say, we are meeting here because of you, Potter. Because you went ahead and marked me. And all I want to know is what I am dealing with. What does it have anything to do with what you know or don’t know about me?” Draco knows he sounds exaggerated but he can’t help it. Potter is being so stupid. A tiny voice in his head counters with how he does not want to tell Potter anything about him because he is scared - about what all Potter will find out and how will he react. Draco shuts down that voice immediately.

 

“What makes you think I marked you though? I never completely figured it out. Is it even possible for me to mark you? I don’t feel any different. I don’t feel any kind of bond towards you. Does that not say it might have been something else than marking.”

 

Of course Draco had thought about it a lot. Researched a lot. Even if he had claimed about Potter marking him on a whim. He had a lot to think about later on. And the answer was plain as day. However, there might be things that Potter is confusing this marking with.

 

“What kind of books have you been reading? There is no bond between us, Potter. Contrary to what you might believe or know, a bond requires two willing parties. Both the people involved need to be aware of the bond taking place within them. That’s why its effects are so strong and visible. A marking, however, works differently and is exclusive to only non humans. But in that too an animagus marking is something that is never heard of which is why I wanted to know about your animagus form more. To figure out what is that I am dealing with.” Draco eyes Potter meaningfully before spitting “So if you don’t mind please get on with it.” The ‘please’ is said in a very disdainful voice that has Potter wincing but Draco does not care. If Potter is gonna behave like a prat so will he.

 

“Okay.” Draco does not know to what that response belongs to but before he can ask Potter is asking to first finish their dinner. Although, Draco wants to refuse, he is not hungry anyways, but something in Potter’s tight set of jaws and almost pleading eyes compel him to comply with his request.

 

They eat in almost complete silence, the only sounds filling the space around them is of the clink of cutlery and thud of wine glasses against the wooden table. For how hard Potter pleaded on finishing the meal before having their talk, he surely is doing a poor job at pretending to eat. Both of their plates are still full and appetite vanished into thin air. Having enough of idly forking through the contents of his plate, Draco settles his fork down with a loud clunk and instead sips his wine in hopes of settling his nerves. Potter sighs and does the same.

 

As they both get up to move towards the couch the still completely filled table with untouched dishes is cleared in a blink. Draco didn’t even hear the pop of Kreacher coming in and out of the room. He dishes the thought out in favour of taking his seat back on the couch in front of Potter’s. Then he waits even though his patience is running low tonight as Potter drags him to the end of his sanity with his cruel push and pull.

 

“Potter, are you -”

 

Draco is halted mid sentence by a quick dismissal of Potter’s hand in his direction. Sealing his lips, rather reluctantly, Draco leans backward and gets comfortable. This is gonna turn into a long night, he just knows it. Better to get his body relaxed and filled with alcohol to deal with Potter's antics.

 

After what feels like hours to Draco's alcohol hazed mind but only minutes according to the giant clock on the wall, Potter finally turns towards him with determination written all over his face and eyes trained on him without blinking. Draco sits up more stiffly. Anticipation runs unchecked throughout his body and leaves a tingling feeling on the tips of his fingers.

 

"I don't know where to start and how to make it sound understandable", Potter absently scratches his stubble as he tries to let out the words without sounding annoyed and adds "so it will be better if I show you my memory of when I first transformed."

 

Draco is surprised - to say the least - by the proposal Potter just extended to him. He had never thought that a day like this would ever come when Potter willingly allows Draco in his head. However, there is a first time for all the things considering how he ended up at 12 Grimmauld place having dinner with the saviour of the wizarding world, who also happens to have marked on Draco in a weird turn of events.

 

Draco's unblinking eyes and a surprised expression must have been noticed by the other as Potter extracts himself from the couch and wandless and without word accios the pensieve in front of Draco, who is now gaping at the suddenness and quickness of Potter's actions. There is a kind of urgency in Potter's behaviour, his actions and his tight expression that does not go unnoticed by Draco but are also not fully understood by the other. It was not even half an hour ago when Potter seemed so reluctant on talking and now he appears so eager to bare all his secrets just like that. Draco is confused beyond wits. He guess he will never be able to understand how Potter's mind works.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [TWITTER](https://twitter.com/sash4kyu)  
> [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/sash4kyu) (in case any of you are shy and wants to ask anonymously or just scream at me for this mess)


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